The Middle of the Middle of Me

I was inspired a few weeks ago to begin riding my bike to work. 

Again. 

You see, I did this out of necessity back in 2010 when I famously completed a daily triathlon for the ages by riding my bike 4 miles through the streets of New Haven, jumping on the 5:56 train toward Manhattan, getting off in Stamford and sprinting (with my bike!) to catch the 34A bus at 6:22, before riding the final three miles to school. It was crazy. And I did it twice a day for all but three days of the school year.

So what changed? Well, two of my students recently wrote research papers about the impact of car travel for their world congress. They described how the average car ride in America is under 4 miles. I checked my odometer and realized my morning and afternoon commute was 3.9 miles. No excuse for driving. My uncle owns a bike shop and gave me a great deal on a birthday present and I was off and running.

The best thing about it, though? Sure, it could be the way the environment is positively impacted by the reduction of fossil fuels. Sure, the roads are safer without another car on them in the morning. But the most immediate outcome has been the outcome on me.

Riding my bike to work just feels right. 

I notice the subtlety (and the severity) of every hill. 

I see stone walls and trees I would have otherwise missed. 

I hear birds. I recognize changes in temperature, however subtle.

I breathe air and I smell the world. 

It just feels right to take it slow aboard two wheels and these legs of mine.

When I arrive to school I feel more fully myself. Whatever I've thought or experienced along the way has awoken something in me that enables me to connect to the people around me in more meaningful ways. 

I am so grateful to my students for researching bicycles and for submitting essays that ended with a clear call to action. I wanted them to do this. I asked them to...but I didn't realize they would impact me so. Because who am I as their teacher if I ask them to do something, if I encourage them to raise the ceiling of their capabilities, and then I don't listen to them and take their urging seriously?

My students are amazing. 

A hero of mine, Brother Blue, used to say he told stories "from the middle of the middle of me, to the middle of the middle of you." When Brother Blue said this, he was talking about generating a heart connection with people. 

That's what I feel like bicycling to work has done to me. It has opened up the middle of the middle of me. It has churned awake my heart and I am more present in the day, more willing to hold my own needs loosely and to interact with the world around me, the people around me, and to speak directly, listen intently, and hone in on the middle of the middle of them. By listening to my students and taking their advice, I have gained a gift deeper than I realized. 

Isn't this how it works sometimes? Don't we take risks and act bravely for one reason, only to learn that we have become better, clearer versions of ourselves in the process?